


Talking

by UPlover



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Derry (Stephen King), Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Movie: IT (2017), Post-IT (2017), Richie Tozier & Stanley Uris Are Best Friends, Stanley Uris is a Good Friend, Talking, The Losers Club (IT) Love Each Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:33:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22592569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UPlover/pseuds/UPlover
Summary: Richie follows Stan into the park where he relinquishes some news to Richie.
Relationships: Richie Tozier/Stanley Uris
Kudos: 37





	Talking

“Where do you think they’re going to take you if you don’t start talking?” Richie called out to Stanley as he followed him down the streets on his bike.

Stanley kept pedaling. His head still hurt. Pain meds never worked. Who said doctors were ever right? He didn’t know where he was going, so he just kept pedaling. Being at home was the worst place now.

“Wait up! Where are you going?” Richie called after him. Stanley was the fastest of them all. He could win a bike marathon.

Finally, Stanley slowed down. There were not many places to go to in Derry. It was as small as it was. Getting off his bike, and making sure to put the kickstand up, Stanley marched off to sit on the park bench, wiping his nose.

“I didn’t ask you to follow me!” Stanley confronted Richie, his throat strained. 

“Too bad. Losers stick together, genius!” Richie followed him, dropping his bike on the grass. For a moment, Richie faltered when he saw the Paul Bunyan statue come into view. Gulping, Richie kept walking. It was all over.

Richie sat with Stanley on the park bench, sitting straight up like a hawk. Letting themselves be silent, Richie watched all the kids play. No more disappearances at least. All these kids. They were lucky. Now, he was growing up.

“How many stitches were there?” Richie asked Stanley.

Stanley watched a bird fly through the sky. “Over twenty.”

“What did you tell the doctors that happened?”

Gulping, Stanley’s face was a mix of anger and fear. “Dogs attacked me.”

“And they believed you?” Richie asked, trying not to laugh at such a story. “Dude, that’s like saying a dog ate your homework!”

Stanley nodded.

This wasn’t Stanley. Going into that house messed him up. Richie wished that he could have been with him when Stanley was separated from the group. Whatever that thing was that attacked him frightened Richie. It was very possible that Stanley could have been killed right then and there.

“So, how are you?” Richie asked him.

“Fine.”

“Are you going to keep answering me in three words or less the whole day?” Richie asked getting irritated by all this.

“I haven’t done that the whole time,” Stanley pointed out.

“Now we’re finally getting somewhere!” Richie threw up his arms. “What has been with you?”

“You weren’t there, okay!” Stanley yelled, his voice wavering in tears. Richie calmed down a bit, letting Stanley speak. Please, don’t let this be the same harsh words he shouted when he accused them all of not being his friends? That broke Richie’s heart.

“When I-It was devouring my face… I saw something,” Stanley confessed, his eyes fixed on the grass. His nails were digging into his knees.

“Her tonsils?” Richie asked, trying to lighten the mood. He at least tried to make people feel better. And it worked most of the time.

“No… I saw… myself…” Stanley’s voice cracked. “… in a bathtub…”

“Playing with your pickle?”

“NO!” Stanley screamed making Richie jump. “I-I was… surrounded in blood. My own blood!” his voice shook.

Richie swallowed hard. Stanley shivered, a tear escaping his eye. Slowly, Richie put his hand against his shoulder to soothe him.

“You know we’re all going to stay together, right?” Richie said to him.

“It knows! We’re already strangers!”

“That’s not true. You just won’t talk to us!” Richie accused him.

Stanley looked guiltily into his friend’s eyes. “Because I want to forget.”

“Me too,” Richie said, his grip tightening. “But, I don’t want to forget you.”

Continuing to look at him, his mouth trembling, wanting to say more, but didn’t know how to explain any of his emotions, Stanley cried, breaking his stupor, and hunching his back.

Richie put an arm around his shoulder. “It’ll be okay, dude.”


End file.
